(over breakfast)
LR: Hey! Why is there peanut butter in my dice cup?
Dad: Did you squeeze the dice too hard? The peanut butter might have squished out the edges.
LR: (sighing) No, Dad. I don’t think so.
RJ: Those dice are from peanut town! Everything is made from peanuts there. Houses. Clothes. Trees. The cars.
Dad: Anything else?
RJ: Yes, everything… (horrified) Even the breakfast cereal.
Something that comes up from time to time is RJ’s previous life. It almost always starts out with, “When I was a little kid…” and describes a time “before he came to live with our family.” Apparently he lived only with his grandma, because everyone else in the family died. Today, I discovered a little more…
(over breakfast)
RJ: When I was a little kid… I got stabbed.
Dad: Stabbed? You mean before you came to live with us?
RJ: Yeah. When I was living with my grandma… in Malaysia.
Dad: Malaysia? Okay… How did it happen?
RJ: I was playing with a pen and I stabbed my knee. I still have a little sore on my knee from it. See?
Dad: And that’s also why there’s ink all over your knee right now?
RJ: Yeah.
Dad: Strange that I’ve never noticed that before.
RJ: Yeah.
(An unfortunately chirpy RJ appears at the counter ready for breakfast, with a dinosaur entourage.)
Dad: (blearily rubbing eyes) What is this? RJ and the breakfast full of dinosaurs?… Okay, what do you want to eat?
RJ: This dinosaur wants flies. You’d better get to work; they’re hard to catch and he needs a lot of them.
Dad: Okay. I’ll see what I can do. How about the others?
RJ: Meat. Lots of meat.
Dad: And you?
RJ: Just rice bubbles…
(half an hour later, RJ wanders past, arms still full of dinosaurs)
Dad: RJ, wouldn’t it be easier to carry them in something? A bag or a basket or something?
RJ: (yelling back) No! I don’t need to. They all get around on rocket boosters.
Dad: Wow! That’s so cool. Dinosaurs with rocket boosters.
RJ: No. It’s not really great, because they don’t have legs. That’s why they had the rocket boosters put on.
(while eating breakfast)
LR & RJ: (singing) Five little ducks went out one day,
Over the hills and far away…
Mother duck said, ‘Quack, quack, quack, quack,’
But only four little ducks came back…LR & RJ: Four little ducks went…
LR & RJ: Three little ducks…
LR & RJ: Two little…
LR & RJ: One…
LR & RJ: No little ducks went out one day,
Over the hills and far away…
Mother duck said, ‘Quack, quack, quack, quack,’
But only a fat little snake came back…LR: It was listening for the quacking noises.
RJ: And it ate ALL of them, even the mother.
Roachy was looking very feeble that morning; on his back, legs stuck in the air, barely moving at all. RJ spent some time finding the right kind of tree bark “medicine” and carefully placing it next to Roachy. The rest of us had pretty much given up hope. Roachy was well on his way to becoming an ex-cockroach.
The next morning over breakfast, we held our breath as RJ carefully looked into the box. To our dismay surprise, we found Roachy happily perched on his piece of bark, antennae waving jauntily in greeting.
“He’s all better! He’ll need some food!” cried RJ.
After a healthy breakfast of lettuce, tomato and mushroom, Roachy was looking terrific. RJ declared him healed and we sent the two of them off together to school.
The teachers must be getting really, really sick of our ‘pets’.
Today we learn that roaches are TOUGH... After the apocalypse the only things that will survive... Cochroaches... Twinkies... and the remains of things held together with duct tape.
(RJ has adopted a cockroach that he found outside. It was suspiciously easy to catch… This morning, over breakfast…)
RJ: I don’t think Roachy is sleeping. He just falls over a lot.
LR: He hasn’t fallen over. He’s dead.
RJ: No! He’s moving! See?
LR: I don’t think he’s feeling very good. Cockroaches aren’t meant to do that.
Dad: Hey guys… Yesterday, when I was spraying the outdoor area for redbacks, he might have gotten some of the spider poison on him. I don’t think it’s very good for cockroaches either.
RJ: (nearly in tears) BUT YOU SHOULDN’T DO THAT! YOU SHOULD JUST SPRAY THE SPIDERS.
LR: He’s dying. He’s going to die RJ. We should let him go.
RJ: No! We can’t do that. Roachy can’t walk very well. Something might eat him.
Dad: We can’t keep him, RJ. He’s like all our wild animal pets, we have to let them go after a while. They just aren’t happy inside.
LR: What if we put him in the front yard?
RJ: No. He can’t hide. See? His legs don’t work properly. It wont be safe for him.
Dad: Can we put some mulch or something in the box with him? He’ll be happier then.
RJ: Yes! We CAN do that. And then we can make him some medicine, so he’ll get better.
For those of you that haven’t visited Australia, RJ would like to introduce you to one of the spiders that are commonly found in the area. This is a Huntsman spider, and they often get larger than this (last week we spotted one trying to wander off with the dog).
We kept him in the kitchen with us for a few hours, but relocated him to the veggie patch, where he can do a great job hunting down pests. Despite what RJ says, they do not actually eat fruit.
(while packing school lunches in the kitchen)
RJ: (blocking doorway with his arms) Watch out! Laser beams here! You can’t get through!
Dad: Hey RJ, where do you get all your laser beams from?
RJ: Not me! I didn’t put them there. The bad guys did.
Dad: Riiiight. So where do they get their laser beams from?
RJ: The Bad Guy Shop. We can’t go there.
Dad: Why not?
RJ: You need a disguise. Then you sneak in and then growl. Grrrrr.
Dad: Then they’ll let us buy stuff?
RJ: Yes. Then we can get our own laser beams… and a cannon. If we put it out in our big tree, it can shoot the bad guys and stop them from putting in more laser beams.
Bad guys not welcome here
(during breakfast)
RJ: Braaaaains…. Braaaains… I … need … brains…
Dad: Have you checked your sister? She might have some to spare.
RJ: (turning to LR) Braaaains?
LR: Sorry RJ. I need all my brains.
RJ: Braaaains…
Dad: How about the dog? Actually, forget that. She doesn’t have any brains.
LR: (protesting) Yes she does!!!
RJ: Braaaains…
Mum: Here you go RJ. Porridge for us, and a big fresh bowl of brains for you.
RJ: Thank you mummie zombie.
Mum: You’re welcome little zombie.
(We’ve been planning our haunted garage. After deciding to have bats, a ghost and even a big alien guy, RJ came up with another suggestion.)
RJ: (excited) And we could have a big elephant hiding in the corner wearing a coat with spots and lots of colours and he could have a mad scientist face that is crazy and he could be wearing lip balm and we could use lip balm to draw more spots all over his face and he could be wearing man pants and more lip balm on top!
LR + Dad: (silence, crickets chirping) …
LR: RJ is a bit weird isn’t he.
Dad: Yeah. Just a bit.
LR: I like that.
Dad: So do I.
